Simper
by xxfatal
Summary: Shikaku x Yoshino. "Because even the fiercest woman is tender to the man she loves." The story behind his truth.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Naruto._

**SIMPER;**

**Straight-Shooter**

* * *

"Then came this spark," explained Chouza, "but nothing happened." The robust chuunin's features knit precisely into a look of pure consternation. "What do you make of it?"

"A failed technique, perhaps," recommended Shikaku, lips set tight in thought. "Did your team make it out alright?"

Chouza nodded; however, upon catching sight of their old teammate, he wisely chose to say no more on the subject. Inoichi, deft at dissecting even the blankest of expressions, strode up with calculated civility. "Mission turned out okay, I suppose?" he inquired cheerfully, letting confidential details lie.

Chouza and Shikaku exchanged glances. "Just fine!" blustered Chouza, slapping him chummily on the back.

"Well, good!" Inoichi threw an arm around each of his mates. "You remember that new restaurant I was talking to you about? Good news! It just opened, and we're just in time for the dinner special!"

Chouza instantly brightened. "I'm starved!" he roared happily. Shikaku did not doubt this. The three of them consigned themselves to a leisurely stroll through one of the main streets of Konoha, easily chatting away the silence.

"She looked like the type that would appreciate flowers," insisted Inoichi adamantly, "but it turned out she was allergic! To sunflowers!"

"Hives on the second date? You're not keeping up a good impression, Inoichi," remarked Shikaku with a small quirk to his lips.

The spirited blond closed his eyes with what appeared to be quite some effort. His entire face blanched at the memory. "I had to take her to the emergency room. She was _really_ allergic."

The corners of Chouza's mouth dipped in sympathy, and he gave his friend a supportive pat on the shoulder. "Dinner's on me."

"Inoichi, it looks like you weren't the only one with this brilliant plan to have supper here during their evening special," Shikaku commented archly as the restaurant came into view. The trio watched mutely as the line snaked from the entrance of the establishment to the front of its neighboring institution. As more people converged on the scene, they quickly found a place in the queue.

"I hope the wait isn't too long," muttered Chouza sourly, mood stricken like a bird from the sky.

Shikaku shrugged. "Even if it is," he rolled his shoulders in relief, "I can wait. I don't expect another mission this week, at the very least."

Inoichi, meanwhile, had produced a stunning smile and seemed to be aiming it at the top kunoichi from their years in the Academy, who was standing several meters ahead of them in line. "I say," Inoichi remarked glibly when his smile was returned in kind, "Mikoto grows lovelier by the day."

"Give it a rest already, Inoichi," Shikaku sighed, pressing fingers to his temple as if this made him mentally ill. "She's not interested in you; you've known that since our Academy days."

"I know that, but it doesn't kill a guy to be polite, does it?" he retorted, his tone indicative of something that dangerously resembled a pout.

Shikaku simply shook his head, the gesture clearly insinuating someone was utterly hopeless.

A loud rumble shuddered through the air. Waiting patrons turned to stare. Chouza stared bleakly into the din of the restaurant. "I'm so hungry I could eat a bear right now!" He looked it. He looked positively miserable.

As more satisfied customers streamed out of the eatery, their section in line drew closer to the entrance. By then, the wondrous smells emanating from inside had them all ravenous. Chouza was dribbling saliva down the front of his shirt, and even Inoichi had pressed his eyes shut tight in order to internally tame this burning need to _eat._

"Next party, please," announced a waiter, wearing a somewhat weary smile.

Chouza snapped to life. "US!" The waiter appeared unfazed by his display of overzealous behavior and merely motioned for them to follow along.

"How many?"

"Three," replied Shikaku, before Chouza could puncture any eardrums.

"Right this way." The waiter looped them through the main section of the restaurant, weaving through the packed tables until they reached a small four-person table. Inoichi and Shikaku pulled out a chair, whilst Chouza enthusiastically squeezed into the booth across from them, which originally had been meant for two people. Not very many restaurants in Konoha were prepared for Akimichi clan ninja, it seemed.

"Here are your menus." He then pulled out another menu. "And here are our specials for the grand opening. Someone will be with you in a moment to take your order." He bowed and returned to his post at the door, leaving the trio to peruse the dish listings.

It was clear to Shikaku that it wasn't the service that people were coming for. He batted away the cynical thought after realizing it may not have been a fair assessment, given that it did seem to be an overwhelming atmosphere, especially for the unprepared. Instead, he allowed his judgment to be suspended for the present time, until he could at least decide whether or not he would return for the food.

"What are you having, Chouza?"

Chouza took a deep breath, as if in deep contemplation. "I," he said, "am having everything." Inoichi and Shikaku smiled. If Chouza had an appetite, then all was right with the world.

"Good evening, I'm Miyakawa, your waitress. Is there anything I can get you? Drinks, perhaps?"

Inochi, in the presence of a decently attractive woman he hadn't yet had the opportunity to woo, fixed the poor girl with his undivided attention.

Shikaku hoped he wasn't about to pull out another awful line from his repertoire of pick-up lines; they hadn't even ordered yet and Inoichi was going to ruin their entire experience if he opened his mouth and spewed what Shikaku anticipated he was about to spew.

"I will have one of everything, please," Chouza declared, much to Shikaku's relief. "And a glass of water."

"I'll have," Shikaku briefly scanned the contents of the menu, "the Chef's Special Medley. Water, also." He gave Inoichi a warning look as he relinquished the waitress's attention.

"I'll have your Dragon Dumplings and the Soup of the Day. Do you have chrysanthemum tea?"

"Yes, we do," chirruped the un-harassed waitress, pen resting on the note pad. "Shall I add that to your order?"

"Please do." Inoichi's smile could have been less brilliant, however.

She picked up their menus, and hustled off to have their order put in, promising to return with their drinks momentarily.

"You didn't hit on her," stated Shikaku baldly, looking at Inoichi with a hint of surprise.

Inoichi shot him a look of disbelief, which Shikaku didn't buy for a single second. "Why does this surprise you?"

"She was attractive."

"And?"

"And that's all the reason you need."

"You don't give me enough credit," he said, tweaking his left eyebrow. Shikaku and Chouza caught his meaning at the same time, their expressions of understanding mimicking each other at the same moment. Mikoto was sitting two tables away.

Aware of the attention, Mikoto and her company of kunoichi all turned to look at them. Kushina and Yoshino looked annoyed. Tsume grinned, showing off her deadly Inuzuka teeth. Mikoto waved and smiled, before returning to her food, allowing the rest of them to resume their meal in peace.

"I could have done without the piercing glares," muttered Shikaku gruffly as he settled back in his seat.

"Tsume smiled," supplied Chouza helpfully.

"I think you annoyed them."

Inoichi appeared to pull his gaze away with a measure of reluctance, shooting his teammate a withering look. "Shut up," he hissed, suddenly looking a trite glum.

Shikaku held his tongue. Hormonal moron always got touchy when it came to Mikoto. He continued to observe them through his peripheral vision, and confirmed what his fist glance had afforded him to glean: Mikoto's promotion to jounin. Though Mikoto was partially turned away from them, he could see the way the other kunoichi sat crowded around her, the fatigue in the set of her shoulders, the pride in her posture, and the celebratory wine sitting on the tabletop. He had to admit: she was gifted. He only knew one other female ninja from their year that had ascended to the rank of jounin.

Yoshino's brown eyes suddenly darted in his direction, much to his surprise. He wasn't being particularly surreptitious, but he was no careless ogler like the Yamanaka to his left. He calmly averted his eyes.

During his meal, he accidentally intercepted Yoshino's glance as he waved the waitress over to refill his glass of water. Her eyes narrowed marginally, but she turned away when Kushina contributed something of interest to their conservation.

Was Yoshino watching him? He couldn't fathom why. He brought the glass to his lips, letting his head tilt back. Through the water, he saw her tuck a strand of brown hair behind her ear. Quirking a brow, he noticed the slight tension in her shoulders, the slight angle of her body toward him. He nearly spilled the beverage down the front of his flak jacket. Those were clearly signs, weren't they?

"What are you looking at, dumbass?" queried Inoichi, breaking him out of his ruminations.

Shikaku put his glass down at decided to quit looking in that particular direction until the end of the meal. "Nothing."

"You must take me for a blind man," he said.

On the contrary, Shikaku knew full well that Inoichi had caught his scrutiny. Inoichi could tell the difference from the tiniest of facial twitches indicating annoyance with an unwelcome fly and facial twitches indicating barely-checked killing intent. Only years of friendship and childhood tomfoolery, he knew, prevented the Yamanaka from plucking the information right out of his head, leaving him none the wiser. He didn't doubt he would have his head nitpicked later on through grueling interrogations, though. Inoichi seemed rather fond of practicing his interrogation skills on comrades.

Shikaku consumed his food at a faster rate than usual, as he heard the telltale sounds of a meal nearing its end two tables over. It went unnoticed by his teammates, however, as they wolfed down their own dishes, taking large, unashamed bites to sate their yawning hunger.

True to his word, Chouza did pay for Inoichi's meal. But Shikaku had to foot his own bill, not that it was a problem. As an active roster jounin, he was provided with more than enough income to cover the occasional meal out. The food, he reflected, was damn well worth his money. He failed to tip much more than average, however. Attractive or not, their waitress was certainly not the most gracious or attentive he'd ever encountered. He placed the money down at the tabletop and stood up out of his seat. "Go on without me," he said, answering their unspoken looks of curiosity.

The group of kunoichi were barely exiting the restaurant when he began following after them. Inoichi and Chouza exchanged glances.

"What do you think he's going to do?" asked Chouza.

Inoichi got up. "Whatever it is, it's definitely worth watching."

Chouza quickly tossed the money on the table, gulped down the last of his water, and hastily followed Inoichi's lead.

_(To be continued.)_

* * *

**A/N:** The whim struck me one day. It took me a while to actually contrive something decent enough to post, though. My second attempt at a clear multi-chaptered fic (I'm terrible at them). I've always thought that Shikamaru had a, relatively-speaking, "normal" family. How many people in his universe get to claim two living parents? Not going to lie. I'm going to enjoy writing Chouza and the kunoichi best.

Critique? Let me know, and I will try to improve. Thank you for reading!


	2. Ignoramus

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Naruto_.

**SIMPER;**

**Ignoramus**

* * *

When Shikaku was still several paces behind them, Yoshino turned, taking him by surprise. "Do you need to speak to me, Nara?" she asked him point-blank, expression unreadable. Shikaku would have killed for the Yamanaka mind-reading ability then and there. Mikoto and Kushina looked on quizzically. Tsume merely looked amused.

He surveyed the faces. "In private," he cleared his throat, "if you don't mind."

The other three resumed walking, crystal-clear on his request. "We'll meet you outside, Yoshino," Mikoto told her.

Shikaku pulled her aside, to the hallway leading to the kitchen, giving them a measure of privacy.

"What is it, Nara?" Yoshino demanded, rather impatiently. She tilted her head, examining his unusually uncomfortable expression.

"During dinner, I noticed several physical and behavioral indicators from you," he began, as straightforwardly as he could muster given the circumstances, "directed at me."

She appeared to be having difficulties following his logic, but nevertheless replied trimly, "I caught you staring first, if that's how you want to play it, Nara." She tucked another strand of hair behind her ear, looking rather perplexed.

"There it is again," he said, freezing her fingers where they were. "Your behavior alerted me to the possibility that you wanted to speak to me."

"What are you talking about? Spit it out, Nara."

Frustration rose inside him. Shouldn't _she_ be the one "spitting it out"? "I'm addressing the fact that you're romantically interested in me."

She stared at him, eyes going wide at his words. "You think I'm _what_?"

Shikaku despised that high attention-grabbing pitch. It blew privacy to the four winds. Perhaps, this whole ordeal was a bad idea. This was already difficult without her being so, so _female. _"Would you mind keeping it down?" he said in a lower voice, causing what looked like rage to boil into her expression.

"_No_."

"You're not attracted to me, are you?" It was simply a rhetorical question. He already knew—

Yoshino socked him clear across the face. His eyes burst wide like a pair of inflamed bruises. With one last, furious look at him, she stormed out of the hallway. Shikaku nursed the bruise on his face, shocked speechless. What the hell? He'd only been acting on objective clues that _she_ had been sending him! Why were women so damned troublesome?

A slow, steady clap came from outside of the hallway, accompanied by a polite, quieter clap. Shikaku pinioned Inoichi with an aggravated glower. Inoichi stopped clapping and grinned. Chouza followed suit, though the grin was more like a look of commiseration.

"Is that how you ask a girl out?" joked Inoichi, swinging an arm around his injured friend. "That was the worst example I've ever seen."

"Shut up," growled Shikaku, irate at this complete reversal of what he had expected.

"You might want to try asking Tsume next time. She seemed a lot friendlier," offered Chouza, slinging his arm around him from the other side.

"Just shut up," Shikaku repeated, anger dissipating from beneath him.

"How about I buy you a drink?" Chouza suggested.

"How about you ask me to teach you how to ask someone out w_ithout_ getting socked in the kisser?" Inoichi suggested merrily.

* * *

Kushina sensed the aura of fury first. Yoshino's fury was rival only to her own.

"Probably snogging their faces off right now," sniggered Tsume with a wicked gleam in her eye. "She'll have some explaining to do."

"Tsume, hush," murmured Mikoto. "Yoshino might hear us. You know how she gets about—"

"Shut up!" snarled Kushina suddenly, jerking her face away from the direction of the entrance of restaurant. Mikoto and Tsume silenced themselves immediately, their pupils dilated in unspoken understanding.

Yoshino burst through the doorway, her expression like an icy hell. "We're leaving," came the command, like a whip through silent air.

Kushina and Mikoto both had the sense to keep their mouths shut, but Tsume enjoyed a little action and conflict every so often. "Just waiting on you, Yoshino," she answered breezily, hoping to elicit a particularly volatile reaction. Yoshino curtly ignored her. Curious, Tsume threw her gaze back down the path. It wasn't until they were well down the boulevard that she saw them emerge onto the street: one stiff-looking Nara and a pair of supporting buffoons. The three men glanced once down the road, before walking, defeated, in the opposite direction. Tsume's over-plucked eyebrows sailed up to her forehead. "Looks like you hurt his feelings," she remarked, smirking.

"Give it a rest, Tsume," responded Kushina, reacting in Yoshino's stead. The Inuzuka obediently fell silent, conceding to at least let her fellow kunoichi stomp the steam off before she—_they_, probably—grilled her endlessly when it was safer to do so. It was a long walk to Mikoto's apartment, located conveniently close to the hospital. By then, Yoshino's rigid gait had eased into back into the relaxed, untroubled cadence of being among friends.

"Then he had the idiocy to try another stealth-bomb combo," blathered Kushina in exasperation. "Persistent bastard! I had to waste another chunk of chakra sealing his mouth, too."

"It wasn't too taxing, I hope?"

Kushina issued a great snort, rolling her eyes at Mikoto's pointless question. "He was just about as dangerous as pinwheel. Sarutobi's going to hear about this one. Lecherous oaf never gives me any decent missions."

Tsume chuckled, drawing their attention. "That's because you don't sweet-talk him enough. He likes that, you know. Where do you think Jiraiya got his perversion from, huh?"

Kushina's expression morphed fiercely into a look of unadulterated revulsion. "I would _never—_ugh! Tsume!" She clamped both hands to her head, anguished by the unwelcome notion that had begun unfolding horrifically in her mind.

"You don't flirt with him, do you?" Mikoto queried, eyes bright with concern. "He's our Hokage. He's married."

"Give me a break, Mikoto!" barked Tsume disdainfully. "He is way too old to be getting any of this! I'm just saying: if you want better missions, better learn to kiss his ass a little, that's all."

Yoshino arched her brow skeptically at the ill-conceived aphorism, tucking stray wisps of hair behind her ear. Temper spent, she felt she had no more reason to remain chilly and unsociable. "I'm going to have to disagree, Tsume. The Hokage gives me missions to my liking. They're always suited to my skill level."

"That's because you don't put up with his crap!" she spluttered, as if it the irregularity was as obvious as the moon turning blue. Yoshino lips dipped wryly. Well, of course, _she_ wouldn't put up the Hokage's philandering ways, but wasn't that a given for the rest of the female population? Men were imbeciles, and after that contemptible episode with Nara, she wouldn't have hesitated to swear off them entirely.

There was a pause in the conversation as Mikoto unlocked the front door, allowing her companions to filter into her furnished apartment. They shucked off their sandals at the entrance.

Kushina went straight for the freezer, pulling out the tub of ice cream that sat waiting for its inevitable consumption. She stifled the greedy whimper that threatened to tumble from behind her lips. It was the decadent, fancy kind. "Mikoto, you're spoiling us!" she remarked, whirling to face their hostess.

"Only the best for my closest friends," Mikoto replied.

"You should have allowed us to pay for the dessert this time, Mikoto," said Yoshino disparagingly. "It's your promotion, after all."

"Nonsense," replied Mikoto smoothly, smiling. "It's tradition. Next time, it will be your responsibility, but for now, it's mine." It was, insufferably, exactly what Yoshino had expected her to say. Mikoto was far too kind, especially for a woman in their line of work. Yoshino and Tsume both shed their chuunin flak jackets and hung them on Mikoto's naked coat rack, as they had just been dismissed from active duty prior to their meal. The four of them converged into Mikoto's neat and generous bedroom. Mikoto released a soft sigh of relief, slowly unzipping her vest. Yoshino noted with a small burst of concern that the inside lining showed spots of blood. After shrewdly examining Mikoto's personage, however, she deducted that the capable young woman had taken care of the wound before meeting with them. It would have worried them had she not. Mikoto draped her vest on the chair, raising her arms to ease the tension that had built there.

Tsume sprawled unbecomingly across the floor, whilst Yoshino pulled up a cushion from the corner of the room and, crossing her legs, sat down upon it. Kushina squatted down with the chilly confection held firmly in her hands, tossing each of them a spoon. "So, when's your next mission?" asked Kushina without further ceremony.

"Tomorrow," replied the jounin.

"That was fast," commented Yoshino with an owlish blink. "You just passed your exam today." Newly-promoted jounin were usually given at the very least several days to recuperate after surviving the grueling experience. Only the entry to the ANBU surpassed the jounin exam in difficulty.

"I doubt it's going to be a very important mission, but the Hokage did say it was something that needed looking into immediately." Mikoto shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry I can't provide the details." A line of worry appeared on Yoshino's brow, but she chose to not to remark upon it.

"We get it," said Kushina, smiling through the spoon planted in her mouth. "We're on separate clearance levels now. Tsume, are you still planning to take the jounin exam next year?"

"I would have taken it this year, but that stupid Uchiha Fugaku took his sweet time getting the security analysis to the Hokage," growled Tsume darkly, "as if I have anything to hide."

"That's strange," murmured Mikoto. "He finished my clearance check and submitted it to the Hokage at once."

"That's because he has the hots you, Mikoto," sneered Kushina with a teasing lilt, "but please, spare all of us and don't end up dating that total stick-in-the-mud."

"Nonsense!" cried Mikoto earnestly, porcelain skin coloring. "Fugaku and I are strictly on professional terms with each other. His decisions wouldn't be subject to bias."

"That's reminds me," began Tsume with a delicious simper, "what happened between you and Nara, Yoshino?" Kushina and Mikoto went still.

Yoshino's own ruminations shrieked to an inward halt. She had been expecting this question to arise eventually. It was no secret that the three of them had been biding their time in their desperation to know, but it naturally came down to Tsume to be brave enough to broach the topic. Yoshino's complacent expression darkened, her knuckles going white as she squeezed the inanimate utensil, no doubt wishing her wrath upon something else, something that reeked of deer droppings and possessed a perfectly breakable neck. "I don't want to talk about it."

Kushina's eyes sailed over the ever-reliable Inuzuka, lips puckered in juicy anticipation. "C'mon, Yoshino, you can't honestly tell us that getting asked out by a genius isn't some kind of ego boost," baited Tsume, "even if he probably—"

"There was no ego boost," Yoshino cut in sharply. Tsume and Kushina exchanged glances. Yoshino repressed the impulse to knead at the throbbing vein her temple. Why did that Inuzuka always push her buttons? She would never hear the end of it if she chose to stop now. Even Mikoto eyed her expectantly, spoon forgotten on her plate. She would keep it brief and simple, then. "That halfwit thought I was making eyes at him during supper," she spat, eyes aflame, and lips downturned as if she'd been fed something dreadful.

"What? That's ridiculous!" blurted Kushina incredulously. "Did the bastard call you out on it? How humiliating! When I get my hands on that stupid ponytail of his, I'm going to rip it off in one go!"

Yoshino shot the redhead a veiled look of gratitude, feeling somewhat mollified.

"What did he say?"

"In layman's terms, he told me I was flirting with him and he wanted me to admit it."

"What a narcissistic pig!" bellowed Kushina, earning another affectionate look from Yoshino.

"What did you do?" inquired Mikoto apprehensively.

Yoshino was particularly glad that her story failed to embody much substance. It would make this whole ordeal over a lot quicker. "I punched him across the face."

Tsume began cackling, throwing her head back and slapping her knees. Kushina grinned radiantly in her approval, looking as if she were a stone's throw away from falling apart like the woman next to her. Mikoto bit her lip. "Wasn't that, perhaps, a little harsh, Yoshino?"

"He deserved it," said Kushina, coming to her defense. "That has seriously got to be one of the worse ways to ask a woman out ever. If Minato—" She abruptly clapped a hand over her mouth, the apples of her cheeks turning red. Mortified by her gaffe, she quickly averted her eyes to observe the suddenly extremely fascinating wallpaper. It was too late, however. They all heard the name.

Mikoto smiled teasingly. "If Minato were to ask you out in such a way, would you punch him, Kushina?"

Kushina turned childishly away, lips pursed into a pout. She was blushing something furious. "That wimp? Yeah," the near-stifling volume of her voice rising an octave, "I'd punch him." Yoshino detected the lie almost as clearly as if it had struck her across the face. She didn't know anyone on the face of the earth who would have believed it, frankly, except for the shamefully gullible man in question. The poor girl was a terrible liar, and Namikaze was a sucker. Any children they had, if they ever did, would be doomed.

Several hours later, their jesting and stories dwindled into sleepy, exhausted murmurings, and they all agreed to settle in for the night. Mikoto took the empty ice cream carton out of the room, followed closely by Yoshino who refused to leave the dishes to the hostess. Yoshino turned on tap, briefly soaking the dishes in water before applying a soapy sponge to them. She heard the hollow thump of the carton colliding with the bottom of the trash can behind her.

"You were looking at him, weren't you?" came Mikoto's subdued voice, pitched to carry no further than the two women.

Yoshino's dark eyes narrowed despite herself. It was inconvenient, but not something that she hadn't foreseen. Mikoto was incredibly keen; otherwise, she wouldn't have ascended to an upper rank. "Yes," said Yoshino, turning off the tap, "but not for the reason you may think."

_(To be continued.)_

* * *

**A/N:** I repeat, multi-chaptered stories are most definitely not my strong suit. Argh, I put myself through torture trying to churn this one out. It was a lot easier to write from Shikaku's perspective. Juggling four kunoichi just proved cumbersome. I really hope the excessive jumping about and inane dialogue didn't miff anyone too badly. I apologize if this installment failed anyone's expectations. Next one will be focus more on subplot.

Any feedback? I'd love to hear it. Thank you for reading!


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